


On the Road to Something Better

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Home and Away [23]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, David Sheppard, his POV of "Outcast" - with or without the conversation we didn't get to see."</p><p>John comes to speak to Dave after the wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Road to Something Better

Dave wouldn’t have heard the knock at the door if he hadn’t been lingering in the foyer, contemplating what the lawyer had said. He’d been so sure of the will’s contents, but Patrick Sheppard was stubborn and full of surprises, even till the end. Given how quickly John had departed from the wake, Dave wasn’t sure John would care to know what Dad had done, his last attempt at fixing the shattered Sheppard family. But John had actually come to the wake, so maybe -  
  
And then there was a knock at the door, and Dave pulled it open, and there was John, standing on the doorstep and looking uncomfortable.  
  
But he was there.  
  
Dave smiled. “Come in.”  
  
“Look,” John said, stepping into the foyer, “I really don’t care about the money. I don’t even want to talk about the money. I -”  
  
“We should talk about it,” Dave said, “because neither of us are getting it.” He started for the kitchen.  
  
John stopped short. “What?”  
  
Dave laughed softly. “Yeah. I’ll let you see the will, so you can witness it with your own two eyes, but - Dad left everything in a trust. For all of our kids.”  
  
“I don’t have any kids,” John said slowly.  
  
“Well, if you ever do.”  
  
John wet his lips. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”  
  
“Well, then for my kids. He left you and I as joint trustees of the trust for the kids till they turn twenty-five, at which point each of them gets an equal share,” Dave said.  
  
“How does that work? Not all of the kids would turn twenty-five at the same time.” John resumed following Dave into the kitchen, where Dave poured them both glasses of water.  
  
“Well, Dad stipulated that the trust funds are split in half, half for my kids, half for yours, and we can divvy up each half among our kids equally. Since Kathy and I aren’t planning on having more than two, that should be pretty easy to divide.”  
  
“Wow, Dad.” John shook his head, sipped his water. “Always with the surprises.”  
  
“You’re like him, you know,” Dave said.  
  
John raised his eyebrows.  
  
“With the surprises. Stanford, and then the Air Force,” Dave clarified.  
  
John sipped some more water to stall for a moment. “Do you have any more surprises for me? Not sure I can handle any.”  
  
“None,” Dave said.  
  
“What did Dad say?” John asked. “That made you think he was sorry about - about me and him and...us.”  
  
“He said he was sorry, asked me what he’d done wrong, how he could have so misunderstood you. Said you were so like Mom, but he didn’t see it, not till it was too late, because you’re so like him too.” Dave watched John carefully; he didn’t want to overwhelm John into a tactical retreat.  
  
John nodded, gazed into his half-empty glass.  
  
“So, your friend Ronon. He’s -”  
  
John huffed. “He’s different, it’s true. Took me a bit to get used to him, but he’s good at what he does. It’s good to have him at my back.”  
  
Dave raised his eyebrows. “You still seeing action?”  
  
“More than I’d like,” John admitted.  
  
“Everything with your work issue is - done?”  
  
John nodded. “Yeah. Stars, for once I wish it would stop. It’s just - relentless.”  
  
Dave looked John up and down again, and he realized John was tired.  
  
“I wasn’t supposed to be the commanding officer. I was supposed to fly under the radar and finish out my twenty and -”  
  
“Hey,” Dave said. “You’re home now. You don’t have to think about that here.”  
  
John swallowed hard. “Home. Yeah.”  
  
Dave finished his glass of water and set it aside. “Hey, you want to go say hi to the girls? You haven’t seen them since -”  
  
“Since they were really, really small.” John nodded. “Sure. I - work with kids, sometimes.” He chuckled, low and self-deprecating. “It can be kinda rough.”  
  
“They’re always smarter than we give them credit for.” Dave led John out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the girls’ playroom.  
  
They were halfway up the stairs when Dave heard music. Opera. A tenor. Singing _quando le sere al placido_.  
  
John raised his eyebrows. “Since when do you like opera?”  
  
Dave made a face. “I don’t. You showed me how to sneak out of the theater box, remember?”  
  
“Does Kathy like it?”  
  
“She tolerates it better than I do,” Dave said. Then he sighed. “Anna. Anna’s on an opera kick. I wonder where she found that. If she’s on YouTube unsupervised…” He hurried up the stairs and pushed open the playroom door, John on his heels.

Jonathan, looking mildly put-upon, was sitting on one of the little beanbags the girls used as chairs, and singing.  
  
Beautifully.  
  
“Jonathan,” Dave said. “What are you still doing here?”  
  
Jonathan broke off, rose up, smoothed down his rumpled suit. It was the one he’d been wearing that morning. “Apologies, sir. Mrs. Sheppard asked me to entertain the girls for just a bit longer before I go home.”  
  
“No, don’t apologize,” Dave said. “I just - you were here when the caterers got here at five in the morning.”  
  
“Dad,” Anna protested. “He was singing for me!”  
  
“Miss Anna,” Jonathan said gently, “let your father finish.”  
  
Anna’s expression was mutinous, but she fell silent.  
  
“Go home, Jonathan,” Dave said.  
  
John was staring at Jonathan like he’d seen a ghost. Then he nudged Dave. “Manny?”  
  
“My PA,” Dave said. “He’s - indispensable.”  
  
“Lieutenant-Colonel Sheppard,” Jonathan said, dipping his chin deferentially. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”  
  
“What’s your name?” John’s voice was tight.  
  
“Jonathan Evans, sir.”  
  
“How long have you been working for my brother?”  
  
Dave was alarmed at the interrogatory tone John had taken.  
  
“A year and a half, sir.”  
  
“Really,” Dave said, “go home, son. Take the rest of the week off.”  
  
Jonathan raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure, sir?”  
  
“I am. Go. And - thank you for singing for Anna.”  
  
Jonathan nodded. “Yes, sir.”  
  
“Bye, Jonathan,” Anna said, and Clara waved as well.  
  
“Farewell, Miss Anna.” Jonathan patted her on the head gently, nodded at John once more, and ducked out of the playroom.  
  
“I’ve seen him before,” John said to Dave in a low voice.  
  
“He used to be a staff officer at the Pentagon,” Dave offered. “For - oh, you’d have to ask Kathy which general.”  
  
“General O’Neill?” John asked.  
  
Dave nodded. “How did you know?”  
  
“He was my CO at my new post before he was transferred to the Pentagon.” John’s expression was grim.  
  
“Is that a bad thing?” Dave asked.  
  
“I don’t know yet.”  
  
“Should I be worried?” Dave studied his daughters, who were cleaning up.  
  
“I don’t know. I’ll find out.” Then John started forward, knelt to help Clara while she attempted to drag one of the bean bag chairs into the corner. John spoke softly to her, smiled, and even ducked his head and let her pet his spiky hair when she asked. Between John, Clara, and Anna, the playroom was cleaned up quickly.  
  
Anna insisted on taking John down to the stable to see her pony (which, after much deliberation and consultation with Jonathan, she’d named Pegasus), and Clara demanded that John tell her a bedtime story. Once the girls were in bed, John joined Dave and Kathy in the den for a glass of wine.  
  
“It’s so good to see you, John,” Kathy said.  
  
John smiled. “It’s good to be here. Your little girls are beautiful.”  
  
“Will they have their uncle around more?” Kathy asked.  
  
“My posting is really remote, and I only get leave once a year, for two weeks,” John said.  
  
Dave’s throat closed.  
  
“But,” John said, “I can send emails once a week.”  
  
“Only once a week?” Dave asked.  
  
“Really remote,” John said.  
  
“How long do you have in town?” Kathy asked.  
  
“Two weeks,” John said. “Compassionate leave.”  
  
“What about your friend Ronon?” Dave asked.  
  
“He’s taking care of the last of today’s emergency,” John said.  
  
“You’re both welcome to stay here.” Kathy smiled.  
  
John inclined his head politely. “Thank you.”  
  
“The girls are off school for the rest of the week,” Kathy said.  
  
Dave nudged John. “You should go riding with Anna.”  
  
John winced. “I haven’t been riding for a long time.” Then he lit up. “Ronon on a horse would be hilarious, though.”  
  
And Dave knew that, whatever had happened between John and Dad, they were on the road to something better.


End file.
